


Hang the Stars

by otherhawk



Series: Family by Association [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema Device/Newt Pulsifer (mentioned), And So Does Crowley, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Other, Pining, Rants, Warlock is a Little Shit, and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 03:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherhawk/pseuds/otherhawk
Summary: Crowley is pining, Warlock is a little shit, Anathema just wishes that she had a nice and accurate prophecy book that could have warned her against letting either of them in.





	Hang the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing more for Family by Association, but I wanted to jump ahead and write this after Warlock is already settled in their lives. What can I say, it's nonsense.

In the scheme of things ninety minutes wasn't such a very long time, Anathema thought fairly. It was, for example, not quite enough time to roast an average chicken, watch an average movie, or have well-above-average post not-apocalyptic sex.1 And if you were an immortal being who'd been around since before the beginning of time ninety minutes was presumably less than a microsecond, comparatively speaking.

Right. That all sounded reasonable, which gave her room to admit that if she had to listen to another minute of Crowley indignantly extolling Aziraphale's virtues then she might just see about putting the anti-demon wards back up.

“And then he goes and says ‘excuse me’ which is just so typical, and there's patches on his elbows and the sun is lighting up his curls like a bloody halo – which I know he does deliberately, and then -"

Looking out across the garden in the vain hope that one of the children might need something, or at least be willing to save her from annoyingly lovesick demons, she was disheartened to see that they were still knocking a football around with the same mix of cricket bats, hockey sticks and tennis racquets they’d been using since Warlock's aura-reading lesson had finished and she’d foolishly asked them to stay for tea and even more foolishly asked how Aziraphale was doing.

“ – told him, you can’t give foie gras to the ducks, that's just weird, but of course there's no convincing him so -"

She’d started out sympathetically of course, trying to suggest ways he could ask Aziraphale out on a date2 but that had just fanned the flames. Apparently actual communication was unrealistic.

Warlock caught her eye before looking down at his phone and typing away. A second later her phone buzzed.

_Tell her Aziraphale looks at her like she hung the stars._

Well, it was worth a try. At this point almost anything was. “You know Aziraphale cares about you. He looks at you like you hung the stars.” She didn’t quite manage to make it sound natural. It was awkward.

Not quite as awkward as the silence that followed. Or the way that he was clearly staring at her through his shades.

“Hung the stars? _Hung_ the stars? Of course I didn’t hang the stars, book girl!”

“Yes, I know, it’s just an expression -" she tried.

Not that it did any good. “-you don’t _hang_ the stars, you spin them out of layer after layer of carefully chosen elements. It’s an art, it’s not just hanging up some fairy lights.”

“Yes, I...wait, did you actually -"

“- I mean, what would you even hang them on? The fabric of space-time?” He scoffed loudly. “Do you know how thin that thing is? It ladders like cheap silk stockings at the end of the night.”

She blinked. “That’s not something I -"

“ – And then before you know it you’re hip deep in eldritch abominations, confused time travellers, and assorted phantoms and ducklings.”

“I..._ducklings_?” She looked out helplessly across the garden only to catch sight of Warlock smirking at her.

Her phone buzzed again and she glanced down.

_lol_

That little shit.

1While completely useless with computers Newt had turned out to be astonishingly gifted when it came to foreplay.

2She had done this with the unconscious smugness typical of those in new relationships giving advice to those whose relationship status remained ineffably complicated.


End file.
